A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes
by Phoenix Moonstone
Summary: "Derek is downstairs watching Cinderella." Skeptical Scott is the worst Scott. "Yes, we've been over this, Scott." "No, no, McCall is right," argues Jackson, looking from Isaac and Scott with wide eyes, "Derek Hale is trying to woo Stiles by watching Disney movies?" Jackson's naked expression of horror is worth catching Stiles and Derek making out in the couch a week later.
1. I was so upset, I forgot to be happy

**Disclaimer:** Teen Wolf (sadly) belongs to MTV and Jeff Davis  
**Warning:** this story is rated M for cursing

* * *

Emotions are highly inconvenient, to say the least.

That's one of the reasons Derek kept his feelings closed off like a cursed princess locked in a castle with a massive dragon.

The irony of his anchor currently being anger is not lost on him either, but it's a lot easier not to acknowledge the guilt that weights him down every day. That it's his fault his family is dead. To deal with the constant sadness and loneliness he feels, and wallow in it, especially when you have crap you need to do. Crap that metaphorically entails pissing on trees in the woods near his burnt house to mark his territory so crazy bitches who may or may not have slept with him don't kill people in it.

He figures the next time he has sex with someone or some poor unfortunate soul falls in love with his looks, he's probably either going to die or cause a war, and not the Breaking Dawn kind of war (Laura appreciated the irony of sparkly vampires and shirtless buffed werewolves, okay?). He's resigned to his fate.

Which leads him to his current predicament of using his superpowers for good and _investigating _(_'It's not stalking if it saves people from dying, Stiles'_) what may very well be the town's next Big Bad.

* * *

After five minutes of broodily watching the possibly evil woman shopping for lingerie (_which whoa. awkward)_, he's bored out of his mind and cursing his shitty luck.

After fifteen minutes and no sign of the woman having any intent of leaving the store, he's _certain_ she's evil.

Whenever he did stakeouts with Laura, they usually picked a random (and often ridiculous) theme to argue about to avoid tearing each others hair out to keep the boredom and weariness at bay.

Doing it alone couldn't be much different, right?

_Right._

So,_ food._

(He's spending too much time with constantly hungry teenager boys who are constantly raiding his fucking pantry.)

He likes food. He needs food to live. He's _pretty sure_ everyone likes food. In fact, his pack fucking _loves_ food. Stiles included. He's like the cookie monster of curly fries. It's both disgusting and impressive how many curly fries he can fit in his mouth, to the point where he looks like a guilty chipmunk whenever Derek glares at his poor table manners. It's not arousing at all when he licks his fingers, chasing the taste of diabetes. _Nope_. He also does _not_ appreciate his long, (probably) soft strands of hair, nor his warm and mischievous almond shaped chocolate brown eyes. Also, when did he become such a fucking sap?

So _maybe _he's _slightly_ attractive. Big fucking deal. He's still a little shit who steals his spot on the couch at pack meetings, insists on watching Disney movies on nights of the full moon and when the pack is hurt or feeling restless, and is insanely afraid of being left alone by the people he loves (_he can relate_).

That doesn't mean he likes Stiles.

…

Yeah, okay. So he's in love with Stiles Fucking Stilinski but that still doesn't- _wait __**what the fuck?**_

* * *

"So you're basically saying you realized you're in love with Stiles in front of a Victoria's Secret store?"

The carpet in his living room has never been a more fascinating piece of furniture in his life. He admires it for who knows how long while Erica laughs at his misery.

_Oh look, that stain of blood from the harpy encounter is still there. Someone needs to clean that up._

"Oh my God, Derek! Your life is like a bad soap opera and a romantic comedy mixed together with a supernatural bonus to keep things spicy."

He musters a scowl and it must be pretty intimidating, since Erica actually looks slightly guilty and ashamed. Good to know he's still capable of brewing a healthy amount of fear and respect in his pack's hearts so- _oh that's not good._

Erica's smirking like an evil cartoon character. Her creepy smirking would give Peter a run for his money.

_Not good at all._

"Seriously", Derek sighs dejectedly, "how is this even my life?"

"Don't worry, Der-bear, "she winked playfully, "I have a plan."

* * *

**Notes: **this is my first Sterek fanfiction, so if it sucks, my bad...


	2. If you dont think then you shouldnt talk

**Summary:**

Derek has an illuminating talk with Erica and they may or may not get interrupted by an unruly puppy stuffing himself with a pack of chips.

* * *

"You've_ got_ to be kidding me", snarls Derek.

A growly Derek, contrary to popular pack belief and 'The Grumpy Cat Universal Law' (see Stiles' thesis about the many expressions and emotions of a certain repressed and possibly traumatized werewolf) is _not_ a happy Derek. Even if growly Derek is the only form of Derek they have ever seen, _this_ kind of growly is, if one were to listen to Stiles' many nonsense rambles, the well-known sarcastic _I'm-going-to-slowly-eat-your-face-if-you-don't-stop-talking_.

Thus, Erica earnestly shakes her head.

Meanwhile, Derek is regretting some major life decisions. Why did he ever think it'd be a good idea to turn a pack of teenagers? He _knew _he should have turned Greenberg. At least he'd cower in fear in a corner and not sass him every chance he got.

"Please tell me you're kidding, Erica," pleads Derek. Desperate times call for desperate needs and, as the senior werewolf in the house, it's his job to knock some sense into his fellow moon howling buddies. Plus, he's not above doing his big brother _I'm-disappointed-in-you _face. It works with Isaac. "You're supposed to be the wise one."

Erica raises her eyebrows at him, before looking down and examining her nails.

How _dare_ she. No one uses their eyebrows against Derek _fucking Hale._

"Nope, you're confusing me with Boyd again, boss."

Derek sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. _Great_, they're back to ridiculous nicknames. _'At least she stopped calling me daddy'._ He shivers, concealing his no-doubt horrified expression behind a scowl.

"How can you even think this is a good plan? It's terrible," he once read in an article that being brutally honest to young children is an important step for them to realize their wrong doings. He honestly hopes that same rule applies to the cubs in his pack as well, "and what the fuck is 'wooing'," he air quotes, "supposed to mean? Should I just waltz up to Lydia and ask her to turn him into a frog? Better yet, I could just knock him out so I can romantically wake him up with a kiss."

"You do realize that makes you the princess, right?" she smiles smugly, facing him, "Besides, I told you to woo him, not cause him brain damage. I do realize violence and threats is the way you charm the ladies and, while I can assure you won't have bedroom problems given your beloved's epic fear boners, you should just unleash the cuddly wolf we all know is inside you. Embrace it."

They hear muffled laughter and crunching noises while a soft voice whispers "_burn_".

"Shut up, Isaac", they both yell.

Wait, _what?_

He turns around blushing, finding Isaac propped against a wall with his mouth full of chips, pouting at being chastised. Derek crosses his arms in a way he hopes is menacing and does not portray the mindless horror he's feeling within.

_Awesome_, now he's going to be teased by the both of them. Besides, given Isaac's puppyish loyalty and track record of assholeness, he'll probably run to Scott with his metaphorical tail tucked between his legs when Derek inevitably tires of their jeering and releases his pent up frustration on them. He'll most definitely spill his guts to Scott and tell him about his big gay love for Stiles.

"How long have you been standing there?" he tries to ask nonchalantly.

"Oh, don't worry," Isaac beams, "I got here just in the time to hear your ode to his moles. As a piece of literature, a little less gushing would be advisable, but as the fangirling of a grown ass man, I reckon it's fine, though pretty tame to what comes out of Stiles' mouth when he's drunk."

"…"

He settles for ignoring his cheekiness.

"I know right?" joins Erica, "He starts off angrily muttering about your unfair eye color and usually escalates to whining about how perfect your abs are and how your di-"

"That's enough," he coughed out.

He's saved from further embarrassment by the rumble of a Jeep's engine. _Right_, the pack meeting. Time to put on his big boy pants and deal with more supernatural maiming… who ever said werewolves lead an easy life? He sighs to himself, mentally preparing for two hours of awkward innuendos while he's trying to deal with serious matters and wonders, not for the first time, if maybe it wouldn't all be easier if he just asked Chris Argent for help.

* * *

**Notes: **I'M SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO UPLOAD

OH MY GOD YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO WRITE THIS MISERABLE CHAPTER

Like seriously, I need to stop writing in stray thoughts... it takes me forever to string a chapter together plus school is now the bane of my existence.

I do not, by any means, advise being brutally honest with kids like I literally don't even know, I'm never around young kids 'cuz I'm always super scared of holding them and dropping/breaking them so the more you know...

I seriously hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you liked/hated it, please comment so I can (hopefully) become a less shitty writer.

Also, I started writing this with a one-shot in mind, but right now I'm more inclined to make this into a slow building kind of thing, so if you guys like the idea and the vibe of this chapter, I'll make sure to keep writing like that! ^^


End file.
